Don't Forget Me
by InspireRebelLoveTravelLiveKnow
Summary: I never thought I would see the day that a friend, a best friend... died. Not during battle. Oh, and not the prince of Europe. But, destiny doesn't agree with me. This is not a romantic fiction.


I never thought I would see the day that a friend, no… a best friend died. I did not expect it to be in battle. And I definitely wouldn't have thought it would be a prince. Most 19 year-old boys wont live through this. But… I'm not most of them. I'm me. So I saw it.

It starts like this…

At age six I was separated from my family. I lived in a place called 'Canada'. They say it is an odd name for a country. That is why they took it over. Anyways, halfway through the war, my small town was invaded. A group of 4 soldiers charged our house, killing my father. My mother had quickly escaped with the first child she could find… my twin brother, Alfred. So I was taken, kicking and screaming in the tall man's arms. I was soon thrown into a large truck, with many other people, and the door shut us into darkness. I was now a prisoner.

We took the long voyage from Canada to a place they called "Europe." "Europe" had been taken over by a large family and was now dictated under it. The only "country" left was "Russia", who was fighting "Europe" to destroy it. They did not know that "Europe" was fighting in the "New World" as well. "Europe" was said to be beautiful, and any trip there would be the experience of a lifetime. Not for me. I became a servant in the king's castle.

I made some friends quickly, mostly because I really didn't have anywhere to go. Gilbert was an albino boy; he was taken from "Germany". He had lost his brother and family in that invasion. Elizaveta was taken from "Hungary", Felix from "Poland". We grew up together, the three of us, working. We would polish, scrub, weed and do whatever the servant-master told us to do. I met Roderich when I was a child.

It was raining, from what I remember. Raining very hard. I think it was springtime. Anyways, the King had ordered servants to wash the floors. Oh, those floors hadn't been washed since they were placed down. It was only two years after my arrival, so I know I was eight years old. I had nearly finished scrubbing one spot when the music hit my ears. Beautiful music like I had never heard before. (Little did I know I would hear a lot in the future.) It was a piano, I knew that for fact. I knew it because I remember my mother trying to teach Alfred how to play. It really didn't go very well. Most of us stayed, including me, to finish washing as the other servants went to hear. (Those slacking hosers!) Later, as we passed the large room, I peeked in, eager to see the source. Of course, it was the prince, Roderich Edelstein. He finished not long after, and all of the servants applauded. Except me. I slipped out before I could be seen.

Later that year, a noble family from "France" was visiting. I had met Francis Bonnefoy once, and I really liked him. Apparently he liked me, often requesting me to accompany him here or there. One day he brought me to the gardens. We weaved through the maze of flowers, bushes, and trees. It was beautiful. Once we reached the center, he wrapped me in a tight hug. Francis was two years older than me, and he was amazing in my young eyes. He was cooing soothing French words in my ear, knowing that I came from a part of "Canada" that spoke French and English. In two years, I had not forgotten my home. I missed it. He spoke softly to me, about how he would be there when the Russians beat the king, and how he would take me home with him. He would do the talking, for I was a quiet boy, and still am. Constantly forgotten. Gilbert thinks it's a "super awesome power" that I can "turn invisible" but I say it's a curse. We were very unaware of the boy prince watching us from the bushes. But soon enough, Francis noted the small brunet peeping from the bushes. Francis waved at the small boy, who revealed himself.

"Who are you?" he asked calmly, staring at both of us. Francis grinned and rolled his eyes.

"I'm a servant." His tone was sarcastic and it made me tense up. He was joking about a serious topic. The prince obviously wasn't going to take a joke.

"You look quite well dressed for a servant." He observed in a deathly calm voice.

"Well, why don't you piece two and two together then?" Francis still had his arm slung around my shoulder, but my eyes were adverted to the grass beneath my feet.

"You're a noble." Simply stated.

"Oui. So are you. My name is Francis. This," he motioned to me, "is Mathieu." I could tell the price recognized me, and he bowed to Francis, stating who he was simply. They stared at each other for a few minutes. The silence between the three of us had to be one of the most awkward experiences I have ever had. The dinner bell rang out, causing me to jump and cling tightly to Francis's tunic.

"Ahh, dinner." Francis said quietly, heading towards the castle doors, leaving the two of us alone.

"Are you alright?" Roderich asked, eyebrow rose. I nodded meekly, not saying anything. Then Roderich reached out towards my face. My eyes widened as he quickly adjusted my crooked glasses. "Much better."

Seven years later, we were cleaning the floors… again. It was always the floors… Roderich's voice rang through the corridor once again.

"NEIN! I WILL NOT MARRY SOME GIRL I HAVE NEVER MET!"

His father responded loudly, "YOU MUST! IT IS YOUR DUTY AS FUTURE KING!" he obviously didn't expect the hearty-stopping line that followed…

"MAYBE I DON'T WANT TO BE KING!" this was followed by harsh footsteps and a large door slam. I looked over at Gilbert, but he shrugged me off. I quickly got up, making my way silently to the kitchen. Elizaveta had just finished baking cookies so I piled some up on a plate. I padded to the prince's quarters. A soft sobbing was heard from behind the door. I knocked gently.

"What?" the voice was demanding and harsh, one that I would not have expected from Roderich. I entered slowly, looking straight into his eyes. "Yes?" he asked, wiping tears from his eyes. I held out the cookies, took a deep breath and spoke to him for the first time.

"I thought you could use some cheering up…. Lizzy made these." I felt a large blush cross my face. Once again, it was silent. I looked down at the ground, hoping he would stop staring at me like I was a mutated frog. Oh, two awkward fifteen year-old boys, standing in silence is always a good time.

"Thank you." He stated. I nodded and he continued, "Your name is… Matthew… correct?" I looked up, shocked that he had remembered.

"Oui, that's me…" I was now making intense eye contact. Violet met lavender in an intense stare. His glasses were different than mine, his were fine-rimmed and mine were… as basic as they came. He took the cookies, a smile growing on his face. Once more, he thanked me. This is when I realized how isolated he really was. This is what made me respond the way I did…

"That's what friends do."

Later that year, I was chosen to visit the New world- "America". I had learned that my brother was living there, and we had been tracking him. Needless to say, I was ecstatic. As I packed, Roderich sat on the edge of one of the bunks in the servant's quarters. He played with a blanket, with those long, nimble, pale piano fingers. Not as pale as mine, but still pale.

"I'm going to miss you," he stated, staring off into the garden, "you're my best friend." I smiled, happy to know that he felt the same way I did.

"I'll miss you too." I placed a tunic into the pack. It was going to be long, possibly years. I had plans to meet with my brother when I arrived, but for some reason, leaving my best friend overcame me with sadness. He stood, handing me two wrapped boxes.

"Open them…" so I did. The first, larger one was a jacket with "Europe's" seal of royalty stitched into it. "This way, people will treat you with the respect you deserve." He looked me in the eye seriously, and I smiled warmly. So at least SOMEONE thought I was worth it. I opened the smaller box carefully, revealing a simple gold ring with a small maple-leaf gem embedded into it. As much as it was girly for me to say, it was breathtaking. I wrapped him into a hug, feeling the fabric on my shoulder begin to dampen from his tears.

"Don't forget about me…"

Three years later, my (very obnoxious) brother and I sat in a small (American) café. We had gotten used to eavesdropping on random conversations, little snippets like these…

"Johnny! Stop playing with your food!"

"No way. Wizard ALWAYS beats dragon!"

"Did you hear? The king of Europe died!"

"Why would you go hunting on our honeymoon!"

"oh no she didn't!"

"and I was like… 'duuuude'"

wait….the king died? I singled into the conversation and soon approached the table. I asked them if I could sit with them and they (politely) agreed. I introduced myself and they resumed their conversation.

"I hear the heir to the throne is merely 18…" I nodded.

"he is. He's actually a close friend of mine…"

"oh. You are SCREWED! He's going to be dead within the hour!"

I stood, slamming my hands down on the table.

"HE WILL NOT!" sometimes… fate doesn't agree with me…

A few months later, I had returned home. I was hurriedly unpacking my things, desperate to see Roderich for the first time in years. I quickly walked down the hall, my brain reeling through what I would say to him. that's when I heard bickering. I quickly turned towards the conference room, the source of the voices. The door was closed, but I could hear them speaking of splitting the land in Europe. I also heard a quiet protest, obviously from Roderich oon, I couldn't take it anymore. I barged into the room, yelling loudly.

"GIVE HIM A CHANCE TO CALM DOWN, DAMN IT! HE'S NEW TO THIS!" every head turned to look at me. two in particular. Roderich, who had a crown tilted on his head, and Francis… Francis, the man that I had fallen in love with and who I had trusted. Roderich stood, running out quickly, leaving me standing in the doorway. The leaders all looked at me. I stuttered an apology, glared at Francis and ran out to find Roderich. He was obviously in one of three places. Garden… no. bedroom…. No. music room. I popped my head in and there he was, sitting at the piano. He was holding his crown tightly in his hands, the spikes leaving small cuts which started to bleed slightly.

I just… watched him for a moment. he had changed so much. His face more masculine, his hair slightly longer. He had a larger build and a more aristocratic style. Then again, the curl that always seemed to pop out of his hair (alike to mine, but his didn't fall in his face) was still there. Sometimes… sometimes I wish I could read minds. It would make this moment easier. I don't think he noticed me standing there until I cleared my throat. He looked up at me, mouth open, and ready to yell. It snapped shut and he burst out crying.

"I… I can't handle it matt. I cant be king," he started through tears, "I wasn't meant to. I'm not meant to be a leader. I'm not old enough… I don't think Ive got the will to step up to my fathers place…" I sat next to him, taking the crown from his cut hands and placing it on the piano.

"trust me, Roderich, you have the will. It's in you somewhere. You need to find it. There is a king ready to burst out at any second… you just have to let him." he looked up at me, then wrapped me into a hug. I rubbed his back, unsure of what else to do. We sat like this for a while until a gunshot went off, followed by an alarm. I recognized that alarm. The last time I heard it was when there was a Russian invasion of the town… it meant the castle was in danger. It meant we could end up dead. Roderich stood, determined.

"I guess I'll try to let him out." my eyes widened. Oh no… he was going to fight. I grabbed his wrist.

"Please… don't Roderich… you'll get hurt." He shook his head and ripped his had from my grasp. With that, he turned on his heal and left to ready himself for battle. After a quick mental fight, I decided that if he was going to fight, so was I. I quickly snuck into the soldier's quarters, changing into a uniform. I ran out to the courtyard where there was an intense battle going on. Russian blood spilled. European blood spilled. I looked around for him, and spotted him under an extremely tall man… Ivan Braginski. Leader of Russia. He was choking Roderich, demanding something of him. I immediately started towards them, only to be stopped by a Russian soldier who growled harshly in my ear that nobody was to interrupt Ivan's work. I kicked, screamed, fought. No use. The mad was stronger than I… he was more experienced. I watched as Ivan stood, Roderich lying motionless under him. I lived the next few seconds in slow motion.

Ivan lifted his sword above Roderich, looked straight at me, and then drove it through my best friend's chest. I was dropped onto the ground, where I burst into tears. I didn't need to check. I knew he was dead. I knew that my best friend had been murdered. I stood, in the field of retreating Russians and dead bodies. They won. They beat the Europeans. They should be proud. Once they were gone, I looked around. So many people that I knew… Gilbert lay dead in a heap of others. Yes, I would mourn for them all… but I would only grieve for one.

I never thought I would see the day that a friend, no… a best friend died. I did not expect it to be in battle. And I definitely wouldn't have thought it would be the king.

"Don't forget me…"

**So, I hope you liked? I thought it would be nice to have a Can/Aus up here. In the original, Roderich doesn't die. But I like it better this way. Sorry Austrias-nocturne! (That's who this started with. As an RP…) I LOVE YOU! And you still don't have a soul, because you didn't cry during Titanic! YOU LAUGHED!**


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